


Dance With Me

by sihaya13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 03:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7298023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sihaya13/pseuds/sihaya13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dance with me Ronald?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance With Me

She tips her head thoughtfully and plays absentmindedly with a strand of her hair and wonders about the wonders of the universe. She marvels at the people and their odd interactions and stiff pleasantries. She thinks of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack and ponders its uses and whereabouts, as well as the holiday next where she will be looking for them in the wilderness. Upon viewing a feuding couple she allows her mind to wander to the Cupidors and their inclination to tinker with human hormones. She once did not appreciate the workings of the mischievous munchkins, though she came to realise that they gave a pair their chemistry, the whiz fizz, the kabang required for most, if not all, epic romances.

She glances longingly across the hall, staring at the vibrant shades of red glittering and shimmering beneath the twinkling of the magical night’s sky. Red; it is a magnificent colour, especially when adorning the top of his head. His whole family has the famed flaming red hair, though she has always liked his best in all its violent shades. She often believes he must have a Gelgiclap infestation hidden within his abode; for it is well known that they particularly enjoy giving a family a singular symbolic feature and red is, after all, their favourite colour.

She stares for a reasonable while at that which she wishes could be hers. Currently, there is a rather inelegant pile of purple wool and pink lace situated on his lap as he tries, and fails miserably, to eat. Even though she knows that he is nowhere near in like with this girl, let alone in love, she doesn’t find comfort in the thought. For she knows whom he does love and it is still not her and nor will it ever be. 

With a final sigh and a full stomach she exits the Great Hall, shivering in the cool air. Minus a shoe, as it had been taken along with a large portion of her belongings, she finds the floors of Hogwarts castle to be especially cold in the early morning chill. She dreams her way throughout the duration of herbology, receiving a few nasty bites from the disgruntled plants she was re-potting half heartedly. After the lesson she drifts towards the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey and a nice soothing salve for her bites. 

While sitting amongst a sea of white linen she is momentarily stunned when a certain red head is carried into the Hospital Wing with a few extra tentacles located on his being. She worries silently about his well being as Madam Pomfrey fusses over him. She sits patiently on her bed, wishing to be hidden.

“Go on Mr. Potter. Weasley here will be just fine, you get to your lessons now,” Madam Pomfrey says while ushering Harry out into the hallway.

“See you later Harry,” he calls out from beneath a mass of writhing tentacles.

Her heart skips a few beats at the sound of his voice. It may have sounded as goofy as ever but it was still lovely and heart warming. She plucks up the courage to speak while Madam Pomfrey is off bustling about her potions.

“Hello Ronald.”

“Oh, hi Luna. What’re you doing here?”

“Nasty accident with the Herbology plants. The Nargles distracted me,” she fibs.

“Oh, er, right then,” he grins goofily.

“So where did your extra tentacles sprout from?”

"Stray spell in Defence Against the Dark Arts, we were duelling.”

“That’s nice,” she says absentmindedly, staring at his freckles.

Madam Pomfrey arrives back, armed with an assortment of potions and fills three cups, one blue, one purple and one an odd shade of brown. She watches with great amusement from her bed as he pulls a variety of faces. She accepts the salve for her bites graciously and applies it. She smiles as Madam Pomfrey returns to her office and the sweet tones of song grace her ears. She has always loved music. 

Without even thinking she bursts out, “Ronald, would you like to dance?”

“I, what?” he asked, an expression of surprise written on his face.

“I know you don’t like me or anything,” she continued, “In fact, it’s blindingly obvious to almost everyone that you’re completely besotted with Hermione, but . . .”

“I . . . well . . . I,” he splutters.

“Dance with me Ronald?”

Having lost the ability of speech he simply stands and takes her hand. She beams at him. They sway rather ungracefully and not in time to the music but she loves it nonetheless. She knows that it will never happen again and so she cherishes the moment, enjoying it to its full potential. It is but a few short minutes before they are ushered away by Madam Pomfrey but it was ever so magical all the same and the few minutes felt much longer than they were.

While walking the halls, she asks him, “Will you promise me something?”  
He nods.

“Never try to get rid of your Gelgiclap infestation. I rather love what they’ve done with your hair.”

He only nods, still speechless as she skips off down the hallway, leaving behind one utterly bewildered Ronald Weasley.


End file.
